Something Left To Fear
by NKelley
Summary: In the wake of Oliver's disappearance, Felicity fears the worst. When she is paid a visit from an unexpected source, her fears are confirmed. How will she and the rest of the team deal with their loss? But more importantly, how will she react to Oliver's return? (An Olicity fic written to immediately follow the events in Season 3, Episode 9 of The Climb)
1. Chapter 1

First, the legalities. I do not own or claim to own the fictional characters or series that this work of fiction is based upon. All copyrights for Arrow and the characters of Oliver Queen, Felicity Smoak, John Diggle, and any others belong to DC Comics, CW, Marc Guggenheim, Andrew Kreisberg, and Greg Berlanti, and any other authors or entities that can lay claim to them, specifically the writing pertaining to what I have expounded upon from episode 9 of season 3, The Climb. I've merely borrowed them to take a peek into their world and play around a bit. I intend no malice; it was done purely for fun. However, the story depicted here is an original creation by me and belongs to me.

Now, that having been said, I hope you enjoy the story. This story will have several parts – probably 3-4. This is part 1.

**Something Left To Fear**

**By N. Kelley**

John Diggle reached out to punch the code into the keypad next to the door. His hand hesitated, hovering just over the keys. What was he going to find behind that door, down in the foundry? He had tried calling Felicity several times on her phone but had gotten no response. It had taken a couple of hours to find a baby-sitter for Sara. Lyla wasn't going to be happy that he had left their daughter. Sara was running a fever and fussy and Lyla had been called away on assignment by Argus. But this couldn't wait.

Felicity couldn't wait.

Something was wrong.

After Oliver left to face Ra's al Ghul—going on almost three days ago now—Felicity had told him and Roy to go home. She had said that she would call them if there was any news. Roy had argued that he didn't have any place that he needed to be, so she had told him to go keep watch over Thea, like Oliver had asked him. John had taken a little persuasion, but he had finally listened to Felicity when she had explained that she needed to be alone for a while.

She had called with news mere hours after Oliver left. It wasn't good news. Oliver hadn't taken his phone with him or given them any viable way to trace him, probably because he had been afraid that John would try to follow him. But Felicity had prepared for that contingency. When she called John, she explained that as Oliver was saying his goodbye to her, she had slipped a tracking device into his climbing bag. The bad news was that Oliver had apparently found it and disabled it because the tracking signal had been lost.

John had almost come back to the foundry right then. There had been a waver in Felicity's voice that told him she shouldn't be alone right now, but she had insisted that he stay with his family. He shouldn't have listened to her. It was wrong to let her be down here by herself right now. No matter what she had said she wanted.

He winced. This wasn't the time to beat himself up. Right now, he needed to get inside and find out why Felicity wasn't answering her phone.

Steadying his shaking hand, he punched the numbers in and pulled on the door.

When the door swung open, he frowned tensely at the dark abyss waiting for him. Had Felicity gone somewhere? The foundry was pitch black. Stepping inside, he let the door close behind him. He reached out to flick the light switch, but a light down below finally caught his eyes as they adjusted to the dark. It was the only light shining in the room.

The light inside the glass case that housed Oliver's suit.

"Felicity?" John called out, abandoning the light switches and reaching for the gun tucked away behind his back. Something wasn't right.

He listened for an answer but didn't get one. Pulling out his gun, he held it out in front of him and started quietly down the stairs. "Felicity?"

This time he heard something, just barely audible there in the dark. It sounded like someone was crying, and he took the rest of the steps two at a time. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he realized that there was something missing from inside the glass case.

Oliver's hood.

"Felicity? Is that you?"

"Go away, John," came her soft response.

John let out a relieved breath. Thank goodness. At least he knew that she was okay. "I can't do that Felicity. I shouldn't have left you alone. I'm sorry." He walked over to the case and peered around to the other side of it. Felicity was sitting on the floor—despite being in one of her cute little dresses that Oliver liked—with her knees bent and her arms wrapped tightly around them. She was cradling something in the space next to her chest and he knew that it was Oliver's hood. "Come on, let's get you up off that hard floor," he said, reaching out for her.

"Stop!" she said suddenly when he took hold of her arm, causing him to pull back in surprise. Her voice was thick and raw with pain. "Don't touch me."

"Felicity, I know you're worried. We all are. But it's too soon to think the worst. It hasn't been—"

"He's dead, John," she said flatly, keeping her eyes down and her head turned away from him.

"You can't think like that. I've seen Oliver survive a lot of things, Felicity. So have you. Have a little faith."

She shook her head and then her whole body began to tremble. John knelt down to the floor beside her and wrapped an arm around her. "Hey, come on. He'll be okay," he said, trying to infuse his words with more confidence than he felt. It was true that he had seen Oliver live through things that would have killed many other men, but he had also seen the look in Oliver's eyes when he had shaken his hand goodbye. The look was that of a man going off to face his death. Oliver had hoped to come back, but he hadn't expected to.

But John wasn't about to reveal those thoughts to Felicity. He just kept his arm around her while her shoulders shook with quiet sobs.

After a few seconds, she broke the silence. "I didn't even tell him, John."

He knew what she meant, but he prompted, "Tell him what, Felicity?"

"Just before he left, he told me that he knew two things about himself."

"Yeah?" He wanted to ask her if those two things were that Oliver was stubborn and blind because they already knew that, but levity didn't seem appropriate right now.

"He said he knew that he would do anything to save Thea, and then…" she broke off and let out a shaky breath. "And then he told me that he loved me."

"Did that surprise you?" John asked softly, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "I know he isn't the best at showing his feelings, but he doesn't care for anyone like he cares for you."

"I should have known that he was telling me because he didn't expect to win that duel. Because he didn't think he would come back. Why else would he have told me?" She buried her face in her hands. "I should have said it back," she mumbled, barely audible. "He caught me off guard, and I had been so focused on planting that tracker on him that I just stood there staring at him as he walked away." She started to cry again. "I let him go without knowing how I felt about him."

"He knew," John said gently, trying to ease her pain.

"I should have said the words," she spat out angrily, trying to pull away from him.

"Felicity, you still can."

"No, John, I can't," she said harshly, getting to her feet and turning her back to him. "Haven't you been listening to me? Oliver is dead."

John stood up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. She flinched at the contact and he realized it was because that was how Oliver would touch her. He pulled his hand away. "We don't know that. Not yet."

Her voice was barely a whisper as she said, "Yes, we do." She was clutching Oliver's hood in her hands, but she released it with one hand to walk over to her workstation and grab a phone that was lying next to the fern. "I got a phone call on this a few hours ago," she said, holding it out. "At least, I think it was a few. I've lost track of time down here."

He reached out and took the phone from her. It was Oliver's. She had told John that he hadn't taken the phone with him. A sick feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. "Who called, Felicity?"

She was shaking her head, balling her hands into fists as she brought them up to her mouth, one hand still gripping the hood. "Malcolm Merlyn," she said, through gritted teeth.

John felt the muscles in his body relax a little. There was no way that Merlyn could know what had happened. He wasn't an idiot, and he certainly wouldn't have risked himself by following Oliver to the site of the duel. Not even to appease his own morbid curiosity. "What did he say?"

She took in a shaky breath and when she spoke again, her voice was barely a whisper. "He said that he was right outside the foundry door. That he had news and had something to show me. So I let him in."

"You let Merlyn come in?" John asked sharply, looking around the room. "Felicity, he could have killed you."

She didn't respond and John let out a heavy sigh. "What did he say? What did he want to show you?"

"He walked down the steps carrying something in his hands," she told him, her voice barely audible. She turned away from him to look at the stairs. "When he got to the bottom, he said four words: Oliver Queen is dead. Then he set something on the workbench and left the foundry."

"You can't trust Merlyn. You know that. How could he possibly know what had happened? He wouldn't go anywhere near the League. He was lying."

"Not about this," she said, shaking her head softly. "Believe me, I thought the same thing. But then I went to see what he had left behind." She turned her head to look at him and then pointed at the workbench. "Look at it."

John looked over to where she was pointing. Even in the dark, he could make out the object. It was a sword. A knot formed in his stomach. "That doesn't prove anything, Felicity. Don't let him get inside your head. That's what he wants."

"That's why I decided to verify what he had told me."

The hair rose up on the back of his neck. "How did you do that?"

"I tested the sword," she said, pointing at the weapon. "Merlyn or someone had wiped it clean, but you can't get rid of blood that easily. There was still residual DNA left behind on it, enough to do a test."

John's eyes had finally adjusted to the dark enough to see her face clearly in the light coming from the case. Her eyes were red and puffy and there were long dark streaks of mascara staining her cheeks. Her bottom lip was bleeding where she had apparently bit down too hard on it. The pain in his stomach deepened.

"So I swabbed the blade and ran the DNA," she continued, staring at him almost blankly, as if she were looking through him.

John didn't know what to say. His chest had hollowed out and been replaced by a sharp pain. It hurt worse being shot with a curare-laced bullet, worse than when he had found out Lyla was locked up in a Russian prison, maybe even worse than allowing his brother's killer to walk free. It was worse because this time, there was nothing he could do to ease the pain. There was no wound to fix…no one to rescue.

It was too late for that.

He clenched his jaw together, willing his voice to remain steady and calm. "What were the results?" he asked, knowing what her answer would be.

"They were conclusive. The blood belongs to Oliver…_belonged _to Oliver," she said as her knees buckled under her.

John caught her before she could fall, and he lowered them both back down to the floor. "I can call Lyla. She can use her resources at Argus to find out what's happened. All that proves is that Oliver's blood is on the sword, not that Ra's killed him. Merlyn lies. He likes to play with people's emotions. We can—"

"No, John. There's nothing any of us can do. You're right, Malcolm lies, but it's been almost three days with no word. The fight is over. Oliver lost, and he's gone, and I didn't even get to say goodbye. He told me he would come back. He told me that he wouldn't face Ra's al Ghul if he didn't think he could win," she rambled, letting the words tumble out as fast as they would come. "And I foolishly let myself believe him. I actually let myself think that he had a chance against an experienced, cold-blooded killer. But Oliver isn't one…he wasn't one…not a killer, not anymore."

John wanted to comfort her; he wanted to say the right thing, but no words would come. His body was tight with shock, like someone had shot him. He needed to snap out of it. Felicity needed him to be strong.

But the tears stinging his eyes told him that was a battle that he had already lost.

The two of them sat in silence for what could have been minutes or maybe hours. Time seemed not to exist in this realm of loss. John knew he had an obligation to contact Roy. He was the last member of their team who didn't know what had happened, but John wasn't sure how he was going to tell him. That kid idolized Oliver. John didn't know if he had the strength in him to do it, yet.

Then there was Laurel. Someone would have to tell her. He wasn't even sure if she knew what was going on. Oliver hadn't mentioned whether or not he had gone to see her before he left. He looked over at Felicity. Oliver's last few moments with them had been spent with her. He shut his eyes and fought the pain in his chest. How things had changed for Oliver over the course of three years.

It seemed fitting that his last words to Felicity had been to express love for the two most important women in his life.

Thea.

How were they going to tell Thea? She didn't even know what Oliver had done. How he had protected her. She still didn't know the truth about her father, Malcolm Merlyn.

A furious rage began building inside of him, and he rose to his feet, unable to contain it.

"What are you doing?" Felicity asked timidly from her spot on the floor.

He gripped the phone that he was still holding tightly in his hand. "I'm going to call Merlyn. Oliver said he texted that video of Thea to him on his phone. You can back trace that message, Felicity. We'll use it to track him down. It's time that I paid him a visit."

Felicity stumbled to her feet in alarm. "No! You can't. I won't help you. Believe me when I say that I wish you could find him and kill him, but you aren't the Arrow, John. Oliver wouldn't want this. He wouldn't want you to risk your life like this. You have a family. Think of Sara."

"I _am_ thinking of Sara," he said angrily. "And you and Thea and Laurel. Are any of us safe while Merlyn is still out there? He's the reason that Oliver's dead. He gave Oliver no choice but to take his place in that duel. It should have been Merlyn that died at the hands of Ra's al Ghul."

"He still has that video of Thea," Felicity said, still strong enough to push her grief aside in order to reason with him. "He told Oliver if anything happened to him, that the League would see it."

"Then what do you expect me to do?" John shouted furiously.

She flinched and John blew out a frustrated breath. "Felicity, I'm sorry." He stepped toward her and wrapped her in his arms. He was contemplating what to say next when something started to vibrate on the table behind them. "What's that?"

Felicity pulled out of his arms and walked over to the table. "It's my phone," she said, retrieving it. She glanced at the display. "It's Captain Lance." She looked up at him. "What do I do?"

John clenched his jaw tightly. They were going to have to tell people what had happened to Oliver Queen. But not tonight. "Answer it."

Her eyes went wide with shock for a moment, but then she answered it. "H-hello?" She held the phone out and pressed the speaker button so he could hear what was being said.

"He nearby?" asked Captain Lance tightly.

"Not exactly," she responded, managing to keep the tremor from her voice.

"Yeah? Well, we've got a big problem. When do you expect him back?"

She covered her mouth with the hand holding Oliver's hood and tears began streaming down her face.

John took the phone from her. He knew that she wasn't going to be able to respond, and Lance didn't need to be a part of what they were going through right now. If he found out the Arrow was dead, and then later found out that Oliver was dead. Well, it probably didn't matter anymore, but it wasn't their secret to divulge. That secret had died with Oliver Queen.

He grabbed a voice modulator from the workbench and pressed the button. "What can I help you with, Captain?"

"You okay? You sound like you might have a bit of cold or somethin'. I hope not because the city is going to need your A game tonight."

"I'm fine, Captain," John responded, doing his best to mimic Oliver. "What do you need?"

"I left a package for you in our usual spot. I'd like you to take a look at it, maybe even have Ms. Smoak take a better look at it if you know what I mean. Call me back when you've got something."

"Will do."

John hung up the phone and looked up to find Felicity watching him with wide eyes.

"You're not actually considering putting it on, are you?" she asked, looking down at the hood in her hand. She glanced over at the glass case and rubbed her chest. "We can't do this, John. Not without Oliver. We can't." She took a few quick breaths. "It wouldn't be right."

"Wouldn't it?" he prompted, his voice low and even. "What do you think Oliver would want us to do, if he could tell us, Felicity? Do you think he'd want us to abandon the city? Do you think he would want us to just give up? Or do you think he would want us to carry on in his name? Fighting for the city that he loved?"

She walked over to the case and rested her forehead against the glass, looking down at her hands. "I'm not ready to let go."

"I know," he said gently, walking up behind her. "I'll give you a few minutes. I need to go call Roy. He needs to know what's happened and he might want to come with me."

"He can't," she protested quietly. "He won't have his head on straight."

"He's going to need something to focus on, Felicity. Something to keep him occupied." He paused for a moment and then added, "We all do. I would tell you to go home, but I don't think you'll listen. I think you need to be here as much as any of the rest of us. Can I count on you to back me up?"

She nodded but didn't respond.

"It's just to help Lance. After that, we can decide together—you, me, and Roy—how best to honor Oliver. Okay?"

"Okay."

John turned and went up the steps to the club. He would give Felicity a few minutes to part with the hood, and then it was time for him to don it. It would feel strange to put it on again. He had worn it a few times before, but never without Oliver. It might be the last time that he ever put it on; then again, it might be just the first.

(To be continued…in part 2)

Thanks for reading. I always appreciate any feedback that any of you kind readers are willing to share with me. Feedback feeds my muse and my soul. This story should be 3 or 4 parts in its entirety. Don't worry, the next part won't be nearly so sad. I promise. Oliver is back in the next part. It starts up 3 months later. I want to note that the official synopsis for episode 10 is out and I've read it and I'm pleased that my little fic actually kind of fits with the synopsis. I've been writing it for 3 weeks now. I'm sure it's nothing like what will happen, but it was fun to contemplate what would happen. Hope you enjoyed the story so far. I hope to have the 2nd part up within a few days to a week.


	2. Chapter 2

I don't really have much to say here except that I can't believe I'm already posting the next part. I told myself I was going to wait and let it simmer a little more and come back to it and make sure I was ready, but I couldn't help myself because I got such good feedback from you guys, not just on here but also on Instagram. Thank you to everyone who gave me feedback. As a reward, here is part two! Part one was from Diggle's point of view; part two is from Felicity's. Part one was full of feels, part two will be as well, but a different kind of feels. I hope that you enjoy them. It starts out a little rough on the feels at the beginning, but it gets better, much better, I promise. Ok, I'll quit talking now.

**Part 2: _Three months later_…**

Felicity was staring at her screen. Her eyes were so bloodshot and dry that she wasn't sure she could even blink them. After a couple of attempts, she finally managed to get them closed and opened again. She looked around her sizeable office at Palmer Technologies and the tightness in her chest returned. When she kept busy, kept focused on something, she could fight the pain back and keep it at bay. She had managed to do it for several hours this time. But it was hard to do in this building, in this office.

_His_ office.

She looked over at the mug sitting on her desk, and her mind flashed back to what felt like another lifetime ago. Felicity could see Oliver's face in her mind as she set the cup of coffee down in front of him.

_One._

Why had it upset her to be his assistant? He had known how much more she was than that. Wasn't that all that should have mattered? Had her ego really been that big?

She shuddered at the memory and glanced over at the darkened desk that used to be hers, where her assistant normally sat. He had gone home for the evening. Her own office was nearly equally as dark with only her computer screen to light up the area around her desk. She had turned her office lights off hours ago. She looked over at the glass clock on her desk. It was way past time for her to leave for the day, but she rarely went home until it was time to go to bed. If she wasn't here, then she was at the foundry helping John and Roy. Her apartment was neutral territory, which meant that there weren't any painful memories there to haunt her. There weren't _any_ memories of Oliver there. When she was here or at the foundry, she could almost close her eyes and pretend that it was all a bad dream. She could almost feel his presence in those places. At home, there was nothing but silence and her torturous inner monologue to greet her.

Rising up from her chair, she smoothed the fabric of the gray dress she was wearing, fingering the black buttons to make sure they were in place, and then she walked over to the glass and looked out at the twinkling lights of the city. The past few months she had taken to wearing mostly black or gray. One day, she hoped she would feel like breaking out one of her more cheerful and colorful dresses, but she wasn't quite ready yet.

Staring down at the streets below, she watched the lights from the cars form rhythmic lines as they flowed across the city. There weren't any flashing lights that she could see; no police or ambulances. She reached up with one hand to grasp the charm on her necklace, rubbing it between her fingers softly. John hadn't called her tonight. Things had been fairly quiet the past few days. He and Roy had been doing an amazing job of carrying on in Oliver's memory.

In fact, for all intents and purposes, Oliver Queen and the Arrow weren't even dead. Maybe that's why it was so easy to let him live, to pretend. There was no body, and there had been no funeral. The only two people besides John and Roy and her that even knew what had happened were Thea and Laurel.

Felicity winced. That had been a debacle. They still weren't sure where Thea had run off to. Laurel wasn't speaking to them, and she had taken up her own crusade against the criminal element in the city—Oliver wouldn't have approved, but Felicity had other things to worry about. Malcolm Merlyn had vanished into thin air. Not because he was afraid of what they would do to him, he still had that video of Thea as insurance, but probably because he knew that with Oliver dead, the League would be focused on him again…hunting him. Thea now knew the truth about Merlyn, but Felicity wasn't sure if she believed them or not. She had accepted the news rather stoically and then dropped off the map. Maybe she had gone after her father to face him. Who knew?

She should probably care more. Oliver loved his sister. He probably wouldn't have been happy with the way they handled that. But Felicity couldn't bring herself to care. It was Merlyn's fault that Oliver was dead. It was Ra's al Ghul's fault. But it was also Thea's fault. And Felicity couldn't quite forgive her for that. Not after she had lied to Oliver about meeting with Merlyn, and apparently training with him.

Felicity took a deep breath, fighting back tears. It had gotten easier not to cry. Sometimes she still let it come, but tonight she was just too tired. She reached up to cover the yawn that had escaped from her mouth. Last night had been a rough one. Too many nightmares. She had probably only gotten about two, maybe three hours of sleep and it had been a long day, add to that—

"Felicity?"

She jumped at the sound of her name and instantly tensed up. The voice belonged to Ray Palmer. What was he doing here so late? "Hi. Hey," she stammered out, clearing her throat and composing her face before turning to look at him. "I was just getting ready to head out for the night. Lost track of time."

He nodded and then walked over to stand closer to her. "I wish you would tell me what's bothering you. I've been trying to get you to open up for weeks."

"I'm fine. I told you, it's just family stuff. You've met my mom. You know the drama I deal with," she said, ready to step back if he came any closer.

"This is more than that. I'm not blind. But I'm not here to push you into anything. I'm here to offer something that might help," he said, a warm smile spreading across his face.

She frowned at him. "Yeah? Like what?" She prayed that he wasn't here to ask her out again. He had tried that particular distraction before, but she had always turned him down. It wasn't that the idea of going out with Ray was unappealing. He was a nice guy and he had always treated her well, but she wasn't in a place yet to consider letting someone into her heart again. Maybe one day, but not now.

"The A.T.O.M. suit is ready," he said, his eyes lighting up eagerly as he took a step closer to her. "And I want you there to assist me when I deploy it."

"Oh, Ray, I don't know. I don't think that's such a good idea."

"No, it's a great idea," he insisted. "Felicity, you're the only one who knows about it. I need someone there that I can count on. Someone who can back me up just in case something goes wrong." He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. "And that person is you."

A jolt shot through her where his warm hand was resting against her shoulder. Pain formed into a tight knot in her stomach. It was the same way that Oliver used to touch her.

A flash of movement in the glass by the door to her office caught her eye and she stepped away from Ray, letting his arm fall from her shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he asked, turning to look.

"Nothing," she said after a moment, shaking her head. "I just…I thought I saw something."

He nodded, looking disappointed. "Okay, Felicity. I won't press you about this tonight. I know when I'm beaten. But we'll talk about this again, soon. You are still my VP and I'm still your boss, and I need your help with this."

Felicity stiffened. She didn't like ultimatums. "Fine. We'll talk later then. Goodnight, Dr. Palmer."

He frowned. He hated it when she called him that.

"Goodnight, Ms. Smoak."

Felicity watched him go and then let out a shaky breath. What was Ray thinking? He wanted _her_ to be there when he activated that suit? He had told her that he planned to use that suit to help the city, but she couldn't moonlight as an assistant to two groups of vigilantes. There wasn't enough of her to go around. She was already part of a team, and that one was the only one she wanted to be a part of.

Of course Ray didn't know any of that, though.

She walked over to her computer and shut it down. It was time to go home, just in case Ray decided to come back for a second attempt.

Felicity headed out of the building, intent on going straight home, but to her surprise, she found herself headed to the foundry instead. John and Roy might not have called for her help tonight, but it couldn't hurt to check in on them.

But they might not even be there, her mind argued.

No, but her computer system could probably use a little attention. She had been putting off running some diagnostics on it for a while. If John and Roy were gone, then that would be the perfect time to do it.

When she arrived at the foundry, she glanced up at the Verdant sign. The friendly green glow was gone. When Thea had left, that had been the end of the club scene. But that was fine. Less people to worry about messing around up above the foundry. Her chest tightened. That may have been true, but it was also a potent reminder that Oliver was gone too. This had been his club before Thea. Now it was just sitting here dark and abandoned.

Felicity frowned. Well, normally dark, anyway. A green hue was coming from inside the club. Had Thea returned? She took a deep breath, steeling her nerves, and walked into the building. The light was coming from the staircase leading to the upper level of the club. There was someone sitting on the stairs.

"Um, excuse me, the club's closed. You can't be in here," she said in her most authoritative voice.

The figure was a man, long locks of hair were draped over his head where he had it bowed looking down.

Felicity slowed her approach, hesitating. Maybe she should call John. She cleared her throat. "Did you hear me?"

"I heard you."

She jerked in shock. Razor sharp jolts of emotion shot through her as if she were being struck by lightning. She would know that voice anywhere. It haunted not only her dreams but her waking moments, as well.

It was Oliver Queen.

She was hallucinating. It had happened before. She had seen his face in a crowd, or across the room at the coffee shop she frequented. But it had been awhile since that had happened, so it had caught her off guard. She swallowed the pain in her throat and closed her eyes. Once she felt a little more composed, she opened them.

The man was still there. He hadn't moved.

"I'm going to have to call the police if you don't leave," she said, her voice trembling a little more than she would have liked.

"I'll leave if that's what you want."

Her legs felt wobbly and she struggled to steady herself when the voice spoke again. It was Oliver's voice, but how could it be Oliver's voice? Was it later than she thought? Was she at home in bed, dreaming?

She didn't know, and right now, she didn't care. "Oliver?"

The figure didn't answer.

She swallowed her fear and moved a little closer. The man was dressed all in black; his build was definitely similar to Oliver's. But the hair was not. It was long. So long. Oliver never let his hair get very long, much to her chagrin. He had nice hair. She had fantasized before about running her fingers through it. This man's hair was long. His hair hadn't seen a pair of scissors in several months, that was apparent—

Felicity's hand flew up to cover the gasp that had risen in her throat.

Several months…

She moved a little closer but didn't speak.

No. This wasn't possible. This was impossible. Oliver Queen had died. He was gone. He hadn't called them or contacted them in three months.

How could this possibly be him?

She was dreaming. Had to be.

Felicity finally swallowed the last remaining vestiges of fear and walked up to him.

He was still sitting there with his head bowed, not looking at her. His face was eye level with hers. All she had to do was reach out and—

She put her hand to his chin. It was covered in stubble, the way Oliver used to wear his beard. A shiver went through her as she lifted his chin to look into his face.

"No," she breathed, pulling her hand away and taking a couple of steps back. "No, it can't be! You died!"

"I did die," he said softly.

"Then, how can you…?" She pinched the skin on the back of her arm just to be sure and then yelped. She was definitely awake. "How can you be here? How is this possible?"

"Because someone brought me back."

"What?" Felicity shook her head. "No, this is a trick. This can't be real."

"I assure you, I'm real," he said, standing up to walk toward her. He reached out and put his hand softly on her shoulder. "I'm real."

Felicity pressed her lips together for a moment, allowing herself to believe that it was really him and relishing in the feel of his hand. Her mind was swirling with so many random thoughts, that she wasn't surprised at all at what decided to come out. "So, you couldn't find a way to get a haircut before you came back?" she asked, reaching up to twirl a lock of his hair.

Oliver's eyes widened, and his lips seemed to crack just the slightest smile. "Of all the questions that you could have asked me, _that's_ the one you ask?"

She was pleased to know that she could still catch him off his guard. To be honest, she was little off balance herself. There were so many questions that she wanted to ask, so many things that she needed to know. She wasn't sure how to feel or what to think. Part of her felt like laughing hysterically while the other part felt like breaking down and crying for the next several hours. She cleared her throat and tried to reign in her emotions. "Oliver, I don't care about the rest. Not right now. Whatever happened to you, however you managed to make it back here to me, none of that is important. All that matters to me in this moment is that you're here, and that I'm not imagining you." She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm not imagining you this time, right? If I am, then I'm losing my grip because these apparitions have gotten way too realistic."

He surprised her by wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to him. She closed her eyes and took in his scent. It was so familiar. So warm and comforting. All those months of working with him, whenever he came back down into the foundry and she caught a whiff of him, it meant that Oliver had returned to her. That he had beaten the bad guys, and he was okay, and he was home.

It meant that even more now.

"Have you told anyone else, yet?" she mumbled into his chest.

"No. I just got into town. I came to the foundry, first, but no one was here. I needed to see you, so I went to your office to see if you were there but…" he trailed off and she stiffened in his arms.

She _had_ seen someone there tonight.

Oliver.

He had seen her there with Ray.

She grimaced. Well, it couldn't be helped, and it didn't matter. She was going to say her next words anyway. "Oliver, I'm sorry."

"For what? Carrying on with your life after I died? You don't have to be sorry for that," he said gently, keeping his arms around her as if he was afraid that if he let go that he would lose her.

Her heart twinged inside of her. He had no idea what she was thinking. What she had been thinking for the past three months. "No. I'm sorry because I didn't ask you to stay."

"What?"

"And I'm sorry for thinking that if I told you to kill Ra's al Ghul that it would actually help somehow," she continued, ignoring his confusion. "I'm sorry that I didn't find a way to track you where you were going; that I couldn't find some way to keep you safe."

"Felicity—"

"But most of all, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you how much you meant to me before you were gone," she finished, pulling back to look at him with tears in her eyes. "Oliver, before you left, you told me that you loved me, and I didn't say it back. I wanted to. Those three little words have haunted my dreams every night for the past three months because I thought I would _never_ get the chance to say them." She put her hands on either side of his face and touched him tenderly. "But now I have that chance." She smiled, fingering his face. "I love you, and I've missed you so much."

He smiled sadly at her and reached up to take her hands in his. "Felicity, I knew. You didn't have to say it."

She bit at her lip. He was trying to take her blame from her, trying to make it okay, but she wasn't going to let him. "Yes, I did. And I'm sorry."

Oliver pulled her against him again and held her quietly for a moment. "What about Ray?"

"What about him?"

He sighed and she could feel the sound and the movement reverberate through her where their bodies touched. "I was there the night that he kissed you. The night we took down Cupid."

"What?" she breathed, clenching her eyes shut. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I tried to tell myself that it was because I wanted you to be happy, even if that wasn't with me," he responded easily. "I couldn't seem to get out of my own way when it came to you. The timing was always wrong. But when I was going off to face Ra's, I knew that none of that mattered. I knew that it might be my last chance to tell you and that you deserved to know that I loved you. But as much as I still love you, I would understand if circumstances have changed."

"Stop!" Felicity ordered, horrified. She slipped out of his arms, shaking her head. "No. You can't. Please don't tell me that you think I could have moved on that quickly after what happened. Oliver, how can you…? I was devastated."

He stood stock still, looking like he was afraid to touch her again. His face wore an anguished expression. Felicity closed the distance between them and took his hands in hers. "There is nothing between me and Ray, other than the fact that he's thinking of taking up the mantle as the city's savior and wants me to help him do it." She sighed and shook her head. "Apparently, that's my thing, now."

Oliver's lips parted in a genuine smile. "Well, you are very good at it."

She smiled back. "Know what else I'm good at?"

"What?" he asked, giving her a curious look.

"Haircuts."

He lifted his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Come on. What have you got to lose? You've got to look better when I've finished with you then you do right now."

He nodded. "M-kay. But where are you planning to attempt this particular hack job."

She smacked his arm playfully. "Well, you said no one was down in the foundry. We can go downstairs if you want."

"Do we have scissors?"

"Oh, I've added a few supplies since you've been gone."

He turned and held out his arm in front of him. "Lead the way."

(END PART 2: To be continued…)

So what do you guys think so far? I decided to stop here, otherwise this part would have gotten incredibly long. The next part is even better, I promise. Oh, and just so you don't think it's weird or completely out of character for Felicity to offer to give him a haircut, she has an ulterior motive for doing so. There's a reason, I promise. Ok, I love feedback. Please? Here or on my Instagram account (for those coming from there). I'll take any that you care to offer. Thanks for sticking with me. I hope you're enjoying the story. I'll have part three up in a few more days (up to a week possibly). I need to tweak it a bit more and I don't have all of part four written yet so I don't want to get ahead of myself. I'm trying to decide where I want to stop the story (with part four, or possibly more). I have a bad habit of enjoying writing something so much that I just want to keep going. LOL. Thanks guys!


	3. Chapter 3

_**Previously on Arrow **_**(ha ha, I couldn't help myself):**

Felicity closed the distance between them and took his hands in hers. "There is nothing between me and Ray, other than the fact that he's thinking of taking up the mantle as the city's savior and wants me to help him do it." She sighed and shook her head. "Apparently, that's my thing, now."

Oliver's lips parted in a genuine smile. "Well, you are very good at it."

She smiled back. "Know what else I'm good at?"

"What?" he asked, giving her a curious look.

"Haircuts."

He lifted his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Come on. What have you got to lose? You've got to look better when I've finished with you then you do right now."

He nodded. "M-kay. But where are you planning to attempt this particular hack job?"

She smacked his arm playfully. "Well, you said no one was down in the foundry. We can go downstairs if you want."

"Do we have scissors?"

"Oh, I've added a few supplies since you've been gone."

He turned and held out his arm in front of him. "Lead the way."

_**(PART THREE:)**_

Felicity strode toward the secret entrance to the foundry, having a hard time finding her breath as she walked. This was really happening. Oliver was really here. He was alive and he was home. She punched in the key code, pushed open the door, and went down the steps without checking to see if he was following her. She knew he was. His footsteps echoed behind her. It was like she was afraid that if she stopped moving the bubble would burst and it would all disappear.

They were nearly to the bottom of the steps when he stopped. She flinched and turned to look up at him. "What's wrong?"

His face was sad. "It's exactly the same as when I left."

"We couldn't bring ourselves to change anything." She turned and glanced at the bed that she had bought for him, what seemed like a lifetime ago now. "You should see how big the fern is. It took over my workstation. I had to have John screw a hook into the wall that I could hang it from."

Oliver moved down a couple of steps until he was right behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders and bent down. "Thank you," he whispered in her ear.

Her breath caught in her throat at his touch and she nodded, realizing that after everything he had been through the last three months, it was probably nice to have a place to come home to that was familiar and welcoming. "Actually, I thought Roy and John were going to riot a few times, especially when I refused to let them take down the salmon ladder."

He squeezed her shoulders and a smile touched his lips. "So, where do you want me?"

Felicity's eyes widened as her mind took that sentence and ran with it, coming up with a half a dozen possible responses.

"I mean…" Oliver cleared his throat. "Where should I sit? For the haircut?"

Felicity laughed. It felt good to laugh. She felt out of practice. Had she laughed any in the past three months? She wasn't sure.

Oliver joined in with a soft chuckle of his own. "I've missed this. I've missed you."

"Me too." She turned and finished her descent into the foundry, and then she pointed at the black leather computer chair at her workstation. "Just have a seat there while I find the scissors."

"You used to hate it when I sat in your chair. I believe your exact words were '_my chair_'."

She smiled. "It's still my chair. I'm just letting you borrow it." Felicity wasn't about to tell him that she wanted him to sit there for a reason. She walked over to the workbench and pulled out one of the drawers, fishing out a small, delicate pair of scissors. "These should do the trick. I bought them after Roy came back one night with a head injury. There was no way to stitch him up with all that hair in the way on top of his head. I decided it would be a good idea to have a pair of real scissors down here after he complained that I had butchered his hairdo with the wire snips I had used."

Oliver was smiling again. A smile that she had seen so many times. The one he reserved just for her. "You cut Roy's hair with wire snips? That I would have liked to see."

"Yeah, he cried like a baby afterward," she said, walking over to him.

Oliver was watching her closely, and she realized that she was unconsciously fingering the charm on her necklace. He was frowning at it. "What's wrong?" she asked, letting go of it.

"Where did you get that?"

Her face flushed. "From John. He said that you made the arrowhead as a baby gift for Sara, but he told me that he thought I could get more use out of it right now." She glanced down at it and touched it lovingly. "He said when I was ready and Sara was older, that I could give it back to her and tell her about the extraordinary man that had made it for her."

Oliver's eyes looked glassy. "Keep it," he said quietly. "It looks good on you. I'll make another one for Sara."

Felicity swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and smiled at him, nodding her head. She reached out and spun the chair so that his back was to her. Trying to pull herself together, she cleared her throat. "I promise not to do a hack job on you."

"Why doesn't that make me feel better?"

She smacked him lightly on the shoulder, then she lifted the scissors to his head. She frowned. Where did she start? She ran her free hand through his hair, gathering the locks between her fingers, and then she snipped off the pieces that were sticking up. He had nice hair, so soft and silky. She liked how he looked with it short, but it certainly wasn't long enough to run her fingers through when it was cut like that. She felt a blush creep into her cheeks, and she went back to focusing on her task. After repeating the process a few more times, she gathered some hair by his ear and made a snip.

Oliver hissed out a breath.

"Sorry. Sorry," she apologized as a trickle of blood appeared at the top of his ear where she had cut it. She touched it with her finger, getting a bit of the blood on her skin. "Here, let me get something to dab that with."

She walked back to the work bench and grabbed a towel in an attempt to cover her actual objective behind all of this. Moving her hand swiftly to the machine that she used to analyze DNA, she swiped a panel with the blood on her finger and hit a couple of keys on the keyboard before walking back to the chair. She pressed the towel to his ear and pulled it away to see if it had quit bleeding. Just about. She had tried not to nick it too badly.

"There. Sorry," she apologized again. "I'll be more careful on the other side."

She went back to cutting his hair, trying not to fidget as she worked. It wouldn't be good to give him another nick because she was distracted. A few minutes later, the machine beeped behind her and she turned to squint at the screen. It felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from her chest. The results were conclusive.

"Does it say that I'm Oliver Queen?" he asked, breaking the silence and pulling her attention back to the chair.

He hadn't turned to look at her and she swallowed guiltily. It said more than that. "I…it, um…"

"It's okay, Felicity. I understand."

"No. You don't. I mean, you probably think you do. But I had to be sure. It's my responsibility to look out for John and Roy. With all of that business with the Mirakuru last year, I had to be sure. You know…that you were clean."

"You thought I had been injected with Mirakuru?"

"Well, not exactly," she stammered, "but with the whole coming back from the dead thing, the thought had crossed my mind."

He nodded. "I want to tell you what happened to me. I don't want there to be things between us, but I'm just not ready yet. Do you understand?"

"No, I understand. Completely. And I'm not even sure I _want_ you to tell me what happened to you. I'm not sure if it would be worse than the scenarios that play out in my nightmares, but in case it is, I'm not sure I want to know."

She went back to sliding locks of hair through her fingers and cutting. It was an easy, repetitive motion that she could lose herself in. It helped, but it didn't entirely erase the questions that were swimming around inside her brain. He would tell her. When he was ready, he would tell her whatever she wanted to know. That was enough. Right now, he was here and he was safe, and _that_ was more than enough.

"There is something I need you to know," Oliver said quietly after a few moments. "If I'd had any way to contact you, I would have. I wouldn't have let you suffer all these months not knowing what had happened."

"I know," she assured him easily, trying not to let him hear the emotion in her voice. She felt like her lungs had quit working, like she couldn't breathe. Why hadn't he called her? What could have prevented him?

"I really do need you to know. I was put under, sort of like a medically induced coma. I had…extensive injuries. They only just brought me out of it a few days ago." He was gripping the arm rests on her chair tightly. "I really had no choice, Felicity. I need you to know that."

She didn't respond. What could she say? Any question at this point would feel like she was trying to pry out of him what had happened, and she didn't want him to feel that way. Oliver didn't open up to people easily. He had opened up to her before, and he would do it again. She would be patient.

"A few months ago, I would have sworn that what was done to me was impossible," he continued quietly at her silence. "Beyond belief. But after our little trip to Central City, and the things we saw there, I'm starting to believe that anything's possible."

Felicity just nodded, unable to find her voice. How badly had he been hurt? He had told her that he had died. Those were the words he had used.

She wasn't sure that she ever wanted to know, she thought, risking a glance over at the bed…at the box beneath the bed. That was something she would need to get rid of, before Oliver could find it. Taking in a shaky breath, she finished up her attempt on his hair and took a quick appraisal of her efforts.

Not bad. Certainly not as short as he normally wore it. He'd need an actual hair stylist for that, but at least he didn't look like he'd been living on an island away from civilization, she thought with a shudder. She wondered briefly if that was how he had looked all those years ago on that island. Maybe that was one of those things he would tell her…eventually.

"Okay, all finished," she told him. "Just stay there while I go get a broom to sweep up this hair."

She walked past the display cases and around the corner to grab the broom where it was leaned up against the wall. When she turned back, she found herself face to face with Oliver.

This time, she finally, really saw him. The shadow of worry that he carried around those haunted beautiful blue eyes. The anxious finger movement that he was doing with his hand. How he carried his weight just slightly off balance after Roy had injured his knee last year. If she'd had any doubts before, they were gone now. This was him. This was her Oliver. He had died and come back to her.

A choked sob escaped from her lips a fraction of a second before a tear went tricking down her cheek.

He was alive. He was whole. And he had come back to her.

Suddenly his arms were around her, comforting her. "Don't cry. Please don't cry. I'm here."

"I know. That's why I'm crying." She gave way to the tears, unable to hold them back any longer.

"Shh, shh. I know," he said, rubbing his hand in soothing circles across her back.

"I was never gonna see you again," she mumbled in a quivering voice into his shoulder. "I was going to have to be strong for the rest of my life, even though my heart felt like a broken circuit board that would never work right again, no matter how many times you soldered it back together."

"I'm sorry," he said gently.

She took a few deep breaths and cleared her throat, trying to reign in her emotions long enough that Oliver could understand her when she spoke. "Nothing felt right, felt real, while you were gone. There was this empty hole that nothing could fill. John tried, so did Roy. They kept me busy, kept me from thinking about things. But when I was alone at night…" She shuddered against him. "I had trouble sleeping. Sometimes I would come here. Sometimes I was able to find sleep in your bed. It smelled like you. This place; it was so full of memories. I could close my eyes and pretend that you were coming back."

"I'm here."

She pulled away from him to look him in the eyes, wiping tears from her face. "But will you stay?" she asked, her voice shaking. She held her breath. Would he understand what she meant?

"I will if you ask me to," he replied, surprising her.

This wasn't the Oliver who had left all those months ago. The man who stood before her now was more confident, more sure of himself than she had ever known him to be.

"I…I don't want you to if you're not ready. I mean, for this," she stammered. "Not this, I mean, _this._ I mean…me. I can't do it again. My heart couldn't take it if you came back as the Arrow but decided for some reason that you couldn't be the man that I need you to be, that you couldn't be Oliver Queen."

"When I went to fight Ra's al Ghul, I thought I had to sacrifice myself." His eyes went unfocused for a moment as if he was seeing something that she wasn't. "Not just for Thea, but for Starling City. But after coming back and seeing the city now, I realize that I'm not the only one willing to fight for it. I no longer feel like I have to sacrifice the things that I want in order to protect it," he said, pulling his focus back to her. He favored her with a small smile. "I don't have to be the Arrow and choose not to be Oliver Queen. I can be Oliver Queen and choose when and how I want to be the Arrow."

A quiet little sob was trying to force its way up her throat, and Felicity reached up to cover her mouth with her hand to stifle it.

"No more dangling maybes, Felicity," he continued softly. "Life is too short for that. I know that better than most, and I know what I want. I want you."

She launched herself into his arms, leaning up to find his lips that were already searching for hers. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her tenderly like he had the night she had told him it was over between them. His lips lingered against hers for a time, touching them again and again. "Felicity," he whispered against her lips.

"Yes, Oliver?" she whispered back.

He shook his head. "Nothing. I just…I was afraid I would never get the chance to kiss you again, to hold you in my arms like this."

"Mmm-hmm," she murmured in agreement, feeling a bit woozy on her feet.

Oliver noticed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she assured him with a small shake of her head. "I'm just a little worn down, that's all. You know, not sleeping has a way of doing that to you. That, and I think the adrenaline rush of finding you alive has worn off. But I'm fine. I'll be fine. I'll sleep again now that you're here."

"I'm sorry," he apologized again, looking around. "I didn't even think about how late it was. I should leave so you can get some sleep."

"No!" she said abruptly, perhaps a little too loudly. Her face flushed at the look of surprise on his face. "Um, I mean, I won't be able to sleep if you leave. I'll lie in bed wondering if I dreamed the whole thing. Would you…I mean…I would like it if you…you know…if you didn't mind—"

"Yes, of course," he said, mercifully interrupting her babbling. "I'll stay here with you tonight." He smiled warmly at her. "After all, I don't really have anywhere else to go."

She smiled back. "I guess that's true, since I took your bed." She looked away from him, feeling nervous as she added, "Maybe we could share it tonight?"

Oliver looked like he had been rendered speechless, so she quickly backtracked. "No, I didn't mean that like it sounded. I mean, totally clothed. We could just lie in bed together to get some sleep."

He licked his lips to cover a smile. "Whatever you need, Felicity."

She swallowed hard, her eyes going wide. Whatever she _needed_? Really? That's what he was offering? Her mind wanted to dwell on that thought a little longer, but she was so mentally exhausted that she just couldn't hang onto it. She gave into her fatigue and released a yawn that she had been fighting to hide.

Oliver chuckled and reached out to grab her hand. "Come on, let's get you into bed."

If she hadn't been so tired, she would have laughed. Usually, she was the one spouting things off that could be totally taken out of context.

(END PART 3…To be continued)

Okay, I have part 4 written. I'm tinkering around with it to get it just the way I want. What I'm trying to figure out is whether to finish the story with part 4. I could easily finish it there. I have a great place to tie everything up. But if you all are enjoying the story and would like me to continue it, I could definitely continue. After all, we still have two and a half weeks until Arrow comes back and proves my story null and void. LOL. So let me know what you think. Should I finish it up in the next part? Or let it go on for a little bit? Thanks for any reviews or feedback that you give me. I appreciate each and every comment whether here or on Instagram. So thank you!


	4. Chapter 4

_**Previously on Arrow**_**:**

"Yes, of course," Oliver said, mercifully interrupting her babbling. "I'll stay here with you tonight." He smiled warmly at her. "After all, I don't really have anywhere else to go."

Felicity smiled back. "I guess that's true, since I took your bed." She looked away from him, feeling nervous as she added, "Maybe we could share it tonight?"

Oliver looked like he had been rendered speechless, so she quickly backtracked. "No, I didn't mean that like it sounded. I mean, totally clothed. We could just lie in bed together to get some sleep."

He licked his lips to cover a smile. "Whatever you need, Felicity."

She swallowed hard, her eyes going wide. Whatever she _needed_? Really? That's what he was offering? Her mind wanted to dwell on that thought a little longer, but she was so mentally exhausted that she just couldn't hang onto it. She gave into her fatigue and released a yawn that she had been fighting to hide.

Oliver chuckled and reached out to grab her hand. "Come on, let's get you into bed."

If she hadn't been so tired, she would have laughed. Usually, she was the one spouting things off that could be totally taken out of context.

_**(PART FOUR: The next morning):**_

Felicity woke up in the foundry in Oliver's bed, lying on her side staring at the wall. Everything felt a little hazy. What had she been doing here?

Then everything came rushing back with razor sharp clarity. Oliver was back. He was alive. And if her memory could be trusted, he had helped her to bed last night, before climbing into bed next to her. The last thing she could remember was a feeling of warmth and security as she nestled up against him.

Had she actually fallen asleep?

Felicity sighed. She hadn't meant to fall asleep. She had meant to keep talking. There were so many things he needed to know. She still hadn't told him about Thea…or Merlyn, for that matter. Oh well, she supposed it was good that she had gotten a bit of sleep. Now at least she could think a little more clearly. She wasn't sure how long she had been out or what had awakened her—it wasn't like there were any windows down here in the foundry. Who knew what time it was? Rolling over cautiously, trying not to wake up Oliver, she turned over to check on him.

He wasn't in bed.

She bolted upright and looked around. Everything was blurry. Where were her glasses? She looked over to the small table on the other side of the bed and found them. Crawling across the bed, she reached out and snatched them from the table, shoving them onto her face. The first thing she saw sent a sickening jolt through her stomach. There was a box on the floor below her. The box that had been under the bed. The lid was sitting slightly askew, so she knew it had been opened.

Why had she kept it? She should have done something with it weeks ago. She just never could decide _what_ to do with it.

What did you do with the sword that had been used to murder the man that you loved?

It was perverse that she had kept it…in a box, under Oliver's bed. But it wasn't like she could just throw it in a nearby dumpster. Somehow it seemed too important to just thrust aside like it didn't mean anything. And she couldn't let it fall into the wrong hands. If someone tested the residue on the blade…

So she had put it in a box and kept it safe.

Now Oliver had found it. What must he have thought when he opened that box? Her heart clenched painfully in her chest. That's why he wasn't here. He had left. The box had upset him and he had left.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she scolded herself through clenched teeth. She threw herself back on the bed, trying to determine her next course of action.

That's when she heard it. A noise coming from somewhere in the foundry. Her heart leapt in her chest. He was still here! She jumped out of bed, noting that she was still fully clothed, a little to both her disappointment and her relief, and she sprinted out of the room and around the corner, and then came to an abrupt halt.

Oliver was doing one-armed pushups in the middle of the floor. He was breathing heavily and sweat glistened on his skin in places. From past experience, she knew what he was doing. He was trying to work off stress…

Like from finding the weapon you were killed with in a box under the bed you were sleeping in.

"Oliver?" she called out softly, almost hesitantly.

He halted at the sound of her voice, his body hovering inches from the floor. Putting his other hand down to steady himself, he pushed up into a kneeling position and grabbed the towel lying on the floor beside him. When he got to his feet, he started toweling off. His back was facing her.

Felicity's gaze poured over the scars on his back as he moved the towel to the front of his body. Her eyes hesitated on one particular scar that she hadn't seen before. She knew the marks on him—like they were a map of his soul—and this one was new. It was on his right side, just below his shoulder blade. Her breath caught hard in her chest and her hand flew up to cover her mouth.

"Oh my god," she whispered raggedly.

The muscles in Oliver's back tensed and he turned to face her, tossing the towel to the floor. As he turned, another scar low on his left side by his waist demanded her attention. A long sliding scar.

Tears stung her eyes and she shut them, afraid of what she would see when he faced her.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I thought you were still asleep."

She couldn't bring herself to open her eyes. This wasn't something she wanted to see. She had imagined so many scenarios of what had played out during that duel and they haunted her dreams. The last thing she needed was to see her nightmare visualized. But the damage had been done. It was already too late. She had worked too much over the past couple of years with forensic science. Her mind had taken the evidence and run with it. The scene was playing out behind her shut eyelids, unveiling the horror to her. That scar on his back had been from the blade coming out through his skin, which meant that he had been stabbed somewhere in the chest, probably just under his right pectoral muscle.

Felicity had always been an imaginative child. She had never had problems envisioning things. This time was no exception. She could see the look of anguish on his face as it happened, and it made her knees go weak.

But then Oliver was there, grasping her arms gently and whispering her name. "Felicity? What's wrong?"

"The scars," she mumbled weakly.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I have so many that I didn't realize you would…notice."

"After all the times I've patched you up?" she asked in dismay. Not to mention all the times she had ogled him while he was working out, she added mentally.

"Keep your eyes shut. I'll get my shirt."

"No," she said, grabbing for him so he couldn't walk away. "No, I…I think I need to see them."

He sighed quietly but didn't say anything.

Felicity let out a shaky breath and forced her eyes open. Oliver was standing so close that their bodies were almost touching; too close to see anything. His beautiful blue eyes were watching her uneasily. She swallowed apprehensively as she took a step back. Her eyes flinched sympathetically as she took in the sight of him. There was a new scar on his right arm, stretching across his forearm. But more notably was the broad scar on his chest. She was right; it corresponded with the wound on his back.

A lump formed in her throat, and she reached out for the wound hesitantly. "Does it hurt?" she whispered, stretching her fingers out toward the scar.

"Not anymore," he assured her, taking hold of her hand and placing it against his chest.

She looked up into his face with tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry," she said with a shaky breath. "I mean, not just about this, but about the sword. You shouldn't have found it like that. I was going to get rid of it or tell you why I had it. I never thought you'd find it like that. I don't even know why I still had it. I just…"

"Felicity, breathe," he said soothingly, rubbing her arm with his hand. He watched to make sure that she complied and then his forehead furrowed in thought. "How did it end up here?"

Felicity dropped her head. She couldn't look at him as she replied, "Malcolm Merlyn brought it here."

"What?" he asked, his voice thick with shock. He shook his head in disbelief. "He came here? To see you? Did he hurt you?" He was looking her over as if there would still be any evidence of it on her.

"You mean physically?" she asked quietly. "No. But I've never hurt so much as I did the day that he came here."

"Felicity," he said her name softly as he pulled her into his arms and wrapped them around her.

"It was so wrong," she mumbled against his chest. "Wrong that he knew. Wrong that he had that sword. It should have been him, Oliver. It should have been him that died. That's what I wanted to scream at him, but I was so numb from shock that I just stared at that sword. I didn't even see him leave." She paused for a moment to clear her throat and take a breath. "After that, I tested it for your DNA, and when I got the results…I fell apart."

His arms tightened around her and he kissed the top of her head.

"By the time anything made sense again, I didn't know what to do with the blade. It just didn't feel right to dispose of it. So I wrapped it up in that box where I didn't have to look at it and stuck it under the bed. I'm sorry you found it like that."

He was stroking her back gently. "It's not your fault. It's not like you ever thought I would be back."

"But you are," she protested. "Just tell me what to do with it and I'll take care of it, I promise. You don't ever have to look at it again."

He pulled back and smiled softly at her. "I'm not afraid of the blade, Felicity. But I _was_ afraid of dying. These past few months since Sara died, it was all I could think about. That one day it would be me. But now, I feel…I don't know, free somehow. That sword didn't kill me; it brought me back to life. It showed me what's really important and what really matters." He hugged her tightly. "It showed me that I could live."

Felicity didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say, except to think to herself that she had been right before, when she had thought that Oliver had come back different. He was a changed man, and that had to be a good thing. Maybe he wouldn't be afraid to be Oliver Queen…to be with her.

"But I did still have something left to fear," Oliver continued quietly after a moment.

"What?"

"I was afraid that I might have lost you. After everything that had happened, I didn't know what to expect when I came back. I was almost afraid to come back. When I saw you with Ray—"

Felicity pressed a finger to his lips to silence him. "I told you. There is no me and Ray. There never was."

"I wouldn't have blamed you, you know." He gave her a small smile. "I know how you like your billionaire vigilantes, and I'm afraid to say that I'm neither of those now."

"I've never cared about your money, so it doesn't matter that it's gone. And I always thought of you as a hero, anyway." She nestled her face against his neck and pressed her lips to his skin in a kiss. A soft hum resonated in his throat, making her smile, and his fingers began tracing circles across her back. She lifted her lips a little higher up his neck and kissed him again. He murmured her name in a low tone sending tendrils of electricity running through her.

"What time is it?" she whispered.

"About four in the morning, why?" he asked next to her ear and then kissed her cheek.

"Mmm, I was just trying to decide if we would get interrupted," she murmured. "Better to be safe than sorry." She slipped out of his arms and walked over to her computer terminal.

"Um?"

"There," she said, turning back to face him. His brow was furrowed in confusion. "I overrode the locks to all of the entrances. I don't want any unexpected visitors." Before he could say anything, she was back in his arms. "Now, where were we?"

Oliver leaned down to kiss her lightly on the lips. "About here I think."

A thrill went through her. Yes, this was a very different Oliver. The idea excited her and she wrapped her arms around his neck, capturing his mouth in a long, slow kiss.

He pulled back and looked into her eyes. "Felicity," he breathed her name, holding her gaze for just a moment more before leaning in to kiss her again. He tasted her lips again and again, deepening the connection with each kiss, and sending warmth flooding through her body over and over.

"Oliver," she panted against his lips. "I never dreamed I would see you again. And I would like to say that having you back is enough, but…I need more. I need to know that you won't ever push me away again."

"I'll never push you away, Felicity. Never again. I promise." He grabbed hold of her and lifted her off of the floor and into his arms.

She responded by wrapping her legs around him and leaning in to kiss his forehead, like he had kissed hers before he left. Pressing her lips to his skin, she trailed a path of kisses down his face until she captured his lips again. She was barely conscious of the fact that he was carrying her back to the bed. He knelt down on the bed with her still in his arms and then followed her gently down to the mattress. Releasing her, he slid his hands up her body to her face before seizing her lips in a passionate kiss.

Felicity ran her hands up his sculpted back, delighting in the feel of his muscles beneath her fingertips. She gripped his arms tightly as she kissed him back, drawing deeply from his lips.

Oliver pulled away from her mouth to kiss her jaw, then her neck, and down to the base of her throat. His hand came up to finger the buttons on her dress. He was staring deeply into her eyes as if searching for permission. She nodded almost imperceptibly and the buttons began slipping from their holes. Oliver's lips were following along, pressing lightly against her skin with each button that he released. Felicity shivered against his touch.

And then the intercom buzzer went off at her workstation.

"Felicity? It's Digg. Is everything all right?"

She let out a groan as she glanced over at her workstation. What timing. "See? That's why I locked the doors." Then her eyes widened. She looked back at Oliver. "What do I say? I can't just buzz him in and let him find you like this." She paused and then blushed. "Not like _this_, I meant…you know, not like this."

"You seemed to handle it pretty well," he noted with a smile before kissing her neck again.

"Mmm," she groaned, closing her eyes. "On second thought, maybe I could just tell him to go away and come back in…ya know, an hour." He kissed her throat and sucked lightly at it, causing her to shiver. "Mmm, maybe two."

Oliver laughed softly.

"Felicity?" came John's worried voice again.

She sighed. "Yeah, okay, I'm going."

Oliver slid off of her. "Where do you want me?"

"Oh, you really don't want to ask me that right now," she said and then immediately felt her face flush. "But, um, just stay here for now. Let me break the news to him, first." She climbed out of bed and refastened the buttons on her dress before smoothing the fabric. Letting out a sigh, she turned and headed for her workstation.

"Felicity?"

"Yeah?" she replied, looking back at Oliver.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For showing me that I had nothing left to fear."

Felicity nodded at him with a shy smile, tucking a strand of hair that had come loose from her ponytail behind her ear. Why did he have to look so good lying there on the bed like that? She cursed silently to herself. John couldn't have showed up just a bit later? "I wish I'd had a little more time. Not just with you. Of course, I would have loved more time with you to myself. Not that I don't want to tell John, I do. I just…I'm worried about how he'll react. I know one thing for sure, he's going to think I'm crazy."

He got up from the bed and walked over to her. As he came near, her breathing hitched a little. Reaching out, he put his hand on her shoulder causing her to close her eyes and let out a soft sigh. He pulled her toward him and kissed her lightly on the cheek before moving his mouth close to her ear. "It will be fine, Felicity. And we'll have more time together, I promise. Just me and you."

"M'kay," she mumbled, fighting her disappointment when he let go of her. Her legs felt a little wobbly as she continued her trek over to the workstation. Oliver was home and he was in love with her—they had all the time in the world.

**(END PART FOUR)**

Hope you all enjoyed part four. Let me know what you think. Any comments are appreciated. There will for sure be one more part. One, possibly two, but that's it. Thanks so much for following and favoriting and feedbacking. :)


	5. Chapter 5

_**Previously on Arrow**_**:**

Oliver got up from the bed and walked over to her. As he came near, her breathing hitched a little. Reaching out, he put his hand on her shoulder causing her to close her eyes and let out a soft sigh. He pulled her toward him and kissed her lightly on the cheek before moving his mouth close to her ear. "It will be fine, Felicity. And we'll have more time together, I promise. Just me and you."

"M'kay," she mumbled, fighting her disappointment when he let go of her. Her legs felt a little wobbly as she continued her trek over to the workstation. Oliver was home and he was in love with her—they had all the time in the world.

_**(PART FIVE:)**_

She took a deep breath and hit the button for the intercom. John had installed an intercom system after Merlyn had paid that visit to her. There were certain people who unfortunately knew about the existence and location of the foundry. At least with the intercom, they could communicate with them without granting them immediate access. "John?" she responded into the speaker. "It's me. I'm fine. Sorry I didn't answer sooner. Do you need something?"

"Yeah. I need you to let me in."

Felicity scrunched up her nose and took a seat in her chair. So much for that. Not that she had really expected John to just turn around and leave. If he had done that, she would have felt obliged to chase after him. She might not have felt ready for this, but he deserved to know that Oliver was alive, probably more than anyone else, and the sooner, the better. "Sure thing. Sorry."

She cancelled the override and released the locking mechanism on the door for him. A second later, she heard the click of the door as John opened it, and then his hurried footsteps as he came down the stairs.

"Felicity, what's going on? Are you all right?"

She turned in her chair to face him, shaking her head. "I'm fine, John. Really. Everything's okay."

"I got worried when I got an alert on my phone that said that you had locked down the foundry."

She frowned at him. "Wait. What? How did you…?" She broke off and covered her face with her hands. Ugh. This was her fault. She had brought this on herself. Her and her techy tendencies to tinker around with things. In her excitement over finding Oliver alive, she had momentarily forgotten about adding that little failsafe. As soon as she had locked down the foundry, it had sent an alert to John's phone.

Great. She had sabotaged herself.

John was watching her closely. "What's going on?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her. "Something's happened. I can read it in your face, in your whole body language."

Felicity felt her face flush. If he only knew. "There's something you need to know" she said, standing up from her chair and pushing it over to him. "And I think you're gonna want to sit down for this."

He eyed the seat suspiciously, but took a seat in it as she requested. "Okay, I'm sitting. What's this all about? Did Merlyn come here again? Has he resurfaced?"

She blew out a tight breath. "No. Not Merlyn. But someone has resurfaced."

"Who? Thea?"

Her mind went into overdrive trying to think of a way to tell him without sounding completely insane.

"Hey, Digg," came Oliver's soft voice from behind her.

Felicity stiffened. Leave it to Oliver to find the best time to make an entrance. Part of her was anxious for John's reaction, but the other part was more than a little bit relieved. She watched as the realization dawned on John's face. Gripping the arms of the chair tightly, he leaned over to look past Felicity. The expression on his face was unreadable as he watched Oliver walk toward them.

Then, before she realized what was happening, John had leapt up out of his chair and pushed her protectively behind him. "Look, I don't know who you are, man, but take another step and I—"

"John, it's Oliver!" Felicity protested, pulling on his shoulder.

"It can't be!" he argued back, shaking his head and remaining firmly in between her and Oliver.

Oliver had stopped walking and was just standing there waiting patiently. He probably knew what she was about to say in his defense. She sighed. "It is. I took a sample of his blood and ran it. It's Oliver. Someone pulled him off of that mountain and…revived him."

"What?" John exclaimed. "How? That's not possible."

"Really?" she scoffed. "That's your argument after everything we've seen the past year? What about Isabel Rochev? You shot her. You killed her, John, and Mirakuru brought her back to life."

"Is that what this is?" he demanded, watching Oliver nervously.

"No, he's clean. I promise."

Oliver stepped in with his hand outstretched to his friend. His eyes were warm and apologetic, and Felicity thought she could detect just a hint of anxiety in them. She took a couple of steps to the side to give them some space.

John looked at the proffered hand. Then he looked over at her. She nodded encouragingly at him. He looked back at the hand and then up into Oliver's worried face.

Felicity held her breath as she watched John step forward and grab him in a fierce embrace.

"I kept telling myself that you weren't dead. That you couldn't be dead."

Oliver clapped him on the back but didn't say anything. She wasn't sure, but she thought he looked like he was a bit overcome. His eyes were glassy. She had always known that the two men were close. But since Oliver had lost his mother and his father, John Diggle was probably the closest thing he had to family besides Thea. He was someone that Oliver listened to and looked up to, and John had saved his life more than a few times.

"It's good to have you back, man," John continued in a voice so quiet that she almost didn't hear him. She felt tears welling up in her eyes and she turned away so no one would see them. They had felt so incomplete without Oliver the past few months. But now the team was back together.

Felicity frowned. Well, mostly. She wiped at her eyes and turned back to face the two men who had finished their embrace. "I don't suppose you called Roy on your way here?" she asked, glancing up at the stairwell as if she expected him to come racing down the steps at any moment.

She might have temporarily forgotten about the safeguard, but she knew one thing—she hadn't set it to alert Roy.

John nodded. "I did. Thought I might need backup." He glanced over at the stairs. "He should be here any second."

She looked back and forth between Oliver and John. "So…how do we tell him?"

"Tell me what?" came Roy's voice from the alleyway entrance behind them. "Thought I'd come in the side entrance just in case there was trouble. I didn't know…" His voice trailed off as he stepped further into the room and saw what was going on.

Felicity bit at her lip, but before she could figure out what to say, Roy was striding over to Oliver. He held out his hand and Oliver looked down at it. When he reached out to grasp hold of Roy's hand, he pulled him in and wrapped an arm around him.

Roy was shaking his head. "You can't ever do that again."

"I don't plan to," Oliver said, releasing him.

Roy stepped back and stared at him with wide eyes as if he couldn't quite believe what they were seeing. "Is this real?"

Felicity walked over and patted him gently on the back. Roy had especially been lost without Oliver. He was young and inexperienced and had been through so much. Then his mentor and friend had been ripped away from him. John had stepped up, but she knew how much Oliver meant to Roy. "Exactly my first thought, but don't worry, he's real."

"I just kept remembering what I told you—to never give up on me." Roy blew out a shaky breath. "And you said 'never'. Then you were gone…and I was faced with having to give up on you. That was the hardest thing I've ever had to do."

"I've seen what you've done for the city, Roy," Oliver said and turned to glance at John. "You and Digg. You didn't give up on me; you carried on in my name. You made me proud."

"But what happened?" Roy demanded, frowning at him.

Felicity swallowed. The pleasantries were out of the way; it was time to get down to business. She cleared her throat. "Oliver was in an induced comatose state. He just woke up a few days ago." She glared pointedly at Roy. "I think what's important right now is to catch him up on what's been happening during his absence. Don't you?"

If someone could visibly look like they were sweating, without actually sweating, then that's how Roy looked. Felicity swallowed, feeling a little sorry for him. She was sure that he was worried about what Oliver was going to think when he learned about Thea. Oliver's last instruction to Roy had been to watch over his sister.

"Do you think that's a good idea at this exact moment?" John chimed in, watching her with a pointed expression.

She was pretty sure she could guess what he was thinking. That maybe they should give Oliver some time to deal with coming back before they dumped everything in his lap. He already had a lot to deal with. But John should know better than anyone that Oliver wouldn't rest until he knew that Thea was okay. Oliver wasn't one to rest period. Felicity swore that some nights he never even went to sleep. So, they might as well get this out in the open instead of trying to skirt around the issue. That would only cause more problems and open more wounds.

"Yes," she said, trying to sound sure of herself. She had her own reasons for being nervous about telling him. But she didn't want there to be anything hanging over them. "The only reason I hadn't told him already is because I thought we should tell him together."

"Tell me what?" Oliver asked, worry creeping into his voice. He turned to single Felicity out. "What didn't you tell me?"

She shifted nervously on her feet. When Thea had left, she remembered thinking that she should have cared more, but she was angry with Thea. Felicity could have tried harder to locate her. It would have been easier in the beginning. Now it was going to be…difficult.

That decision had come back to bite her in the a—

"Felicity?" Oliver said, interrupting her inner tirade.

"We've lost track of Thea," she blurted out, closing her eyes so she couldn't see the expression on Oliver's face. She hadn't been looking forward to this conversation.

Oliver's hand came up to gently grasp her arm and she opened her eyes to look at him. His face was strained, worried; just like she had known it would be. "You lost her? What does that mean?"

"It's not Felicity's fault, Oliver," John chimed in from behind them.

"It's mine," Roy offered in her defense. "You told me to keep an eye on her."

Oliver didn't react. "What happened?" he asked quietly, still watching Felicity. When she didn't immediately respond, he prompted, "Just tell me."

"This was so much easier when I didn't have anyone to answer to," she said, letting out a soft sigh. "We told her. I…I told her."

His eyes widened, but he didn't move. "Told her what?"

Felicity hardened her jaw. "The truth, Oliver. She deserved to know the truth about her brother, about what you had sacrificed for her."

He flinched, but before he could say anything, she quickly continued, "I know you said it wasn't my secret to tell. I know that, okay? But this was Thea. You told her goodbye and then you left without any explanation. She tracked us down. She said that you told her you would do anything to protect her and that you loved her no matter what." Felicity shook her head. "She said you had been missing for days and asked us if we knew where you were or what had happened to you."

"Felicity—"

"No, Oliver. Let me finish. She told me that she had gone to her father to ask him for help in locating you," she ground out, clenching her jaw. "And do you know what Malcolm told her?"

"Lies," Oliver said and let out a tired-sounding breath.

"Yes, but Thea was smart enough to see through them this time. So she came to us for help." She cleared the lump that had formed in her throat. "And I'm sorry, Oliver, but I just couldn't take it. Part of me blamed her for what had happened to you, and I decided that none of it mattered anymore and that she needed to know the truth. She needed to know that her father had sent her brother off to die, and that her brother had gone willingly in order to protect her, even if that meant his life."

By the time she finished, Felicity's whole body was trembling with her admission. She had just gotten Oliver back. She hoped desperately that this wouldn't drive him away. "I'm sorry," she whispered, wanting to reach out and touch him but afraid that he would pull away.

Oliver stepped toward her and she managed to stay her ground. He shook his head. "Felicity you were wrong—"

"I know—"

"Let me finish," he said, putting a finger up to her lips. "You were wrong when you said that it wasn't your secret to tell. I know I told you that back when you told Barry about me, but that was my jealous pride getting in the way. If you hadn't told Barry, I would have died. This secret, _my_ secret, is as much yours as it is mine." He let out a sigh. "I won't lie. I wish you hadn't told Thea, but under the circumstances, I can hardly blame you. You're right. She deserved to know the truth."

Felicity just stood there, gaping at him. This was not at all what she had expected.

"But that isn't what concerns me right now," he continued, reaching up to give her shoulder a soft squeeze. "You said that you lost her. What happened?"

"After she found out the truth, she disappeared," Felicity explained, feeling miserable. "Dropped off the map entirely. Malcolm did too. At first, I thought maybe she went after Malcolm to demand an explanation. But when she didn't come back, I decided that maybe she felt guilty and had gone somewhere to start fresh, to start over."

Roy was shifting uneasily on his feet. "The first night that she didn't show up to the club, I went looking for her, but it was like she vanished into thin air. I tried for weeks to pick up her trail, but I couldn't."

Oliver nodded. "I had wondered how I would find a way to begin again, to find a way back to my life. I guess this is my answer." He blew out a tight breath. "Finding Thea should be my top priority. I'm a little out of practice wearing that suit right now, anyway," he said, glancing over at the glass display case. He looked over at Roy and then at John. "The two of you have proven that you're capable of keeping things covered out there on the streets. So you keep up that end and Felicity and I will concentrate on locating Thea."

"You got it, boss," John said with a nod. "But if it's all the same to you, I won't be putting that suit back on now that you're here."

Oliver gave his friend a warm look. "Maybe it's time we think about getting you your own suit."

John smiled. "Maybe. If nothing else, Lyla might enjoy it."

A wide grin spread across Oliver's face.

John turned to Roy and eyed him pointedly. "I think you and I ought to go out and do a patrol of the city, don't you?"

Roy frowned at him for a second and then lifted his eyebrows. "Uh, yeah. I was just going to suggest that myself."

"Let us know if you and Felicity find anything on Thea or need our help," John said as he headed over to the drawers by the work bench. He opened one of the drawers and pulled out a gun. Holstering it behind his back, he nodded at Roy. "I'll see you outside after you get suited up." Then he smiled at Oliver. "There are _some_ advantages to not wearing an outfit."

Roy walked over to his display case and withdrew his suit and bow. He was headed for the stairs when he stopped and turned to look back at Oliver and Felicity. "I'm really sorry about Thea. I want to help. Just let me know what I can do."

Oliver nodded.

Felicity watched Roy climb the steps and listened for the click of the door. Then she turned to face Oliver, wondering if he would have more to say now that John and Roy had left. She knew what he had said in front of the team, but what would he have to say privately? She decided that maybe she should go first. "I know what you must be thinking," she said, letting out a sigh.

"Do you?"

"You went to fight Ra's al Ghul to save your sister; I knew that. You gave your life for her, and then I didn't do everything that I should have to watch out for her." She fidgeted with her hands nervously. "I know I shouldn't have blamed her. I was just so hurt. It was part of the grieving process. I couldn't blame you, so I blamed her." She dropped her hands to her sides and clenched them into fists. "And I'm sorry."

He walked over to her and she froze in place, waiting to hear what he would say. His voice was soft as he replied, "Did you think I was going to chastise you after they left?" He reached out for her hands, and Felicity slid hers into his. He looked down at their hands and laced their fingers together. "I honestly don't know what I would have done in your place. I don't even want to think about it. So, don't be sorry. Just help me find my sister."

She realized that she was holding her breath and she let it out. "I will. We will find Thea."

"Together."

Felicity nodded. "There's more," she said doggedly. "You should probably know that part of the reason the team has been able to keep on top of things in Starling is because Laurel is going out dressed up like Sara every night and kicking some butt. She goes out with that boxing guy, Ted Grant. John tried to talk to her—talk her out of it—but she wouldn't listen to him."

Oliver sighed. "Yeah. She wouldn't listen to me either." He frowned. "What about Laurel's dad? Does Lance know about me?"

"No, he doesn't," Felicity said, shaking her head. "We didn't feel the need to tell him. John's been meeting up with him as the Arrow when he needed something. A little tricky to manage, but we pulled it off."

"What about Sara? Has Laurel told him about her yet?"

She frowned. "I don't know, but I don't think so. At least he hasn't said anything to us about it. I think we would be able to tell if he knew something."

"Probably."

Felicity started to turn away from him. She was going to go to her workstation and begin running her facial recognition programs to start searching for Thea, but Oliver's hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"For what?" she asked, enjoying the warmth and feel of his hand. God, she had missed this, missed him. She hadn't even realized just how much she had missed him until she had him again.

"For taking care of things while I was gone. For carrying on in my name." He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. "For continuing to love me after I was gone."

She pressed her lips together and nodded. "I do love you. Enough to know that next time, I'm going to ask you to stay, just so you know."

"There won't be a next time," he murmured softly, reaching up to clutch her face gently in his hands. "Because I won't be able to leave you like that again." He pulled her to his lips, joining them together and kissed her long and deep.

She closed her eyes and lost herself in the kiss. The feel of his mouth against hers. The gentle touch of his fingers on her skin. The rhythm of his heartbeat where their bodies were pressed together. The reassuring sound of his breathing. A sound that reminded her that Oliver Queen was alive and whole. He had come back to her and he was never going to leave her again.

"Never again," he whispered against her lips before touching them in another soft kiss.

Felicity felt her fear slipping away at his promise. She remembered what Oliver had said earlier and she shared that feeling with him now—she had nothing left to fear.

_**Fini**_

Ending Comments: Hope you all enjoyed the story. I promised everyone that I wouldn't let it get too long, so this is me keeping my word. Believe me when I say that I could continue to write this particular storyline for several more parts. I would love to dig deeper into why Thea left and what Laurel has been doing as Black Canary…as well as having more scenes between Oliver and Felicity and even between Diggle and Roy. I'd even enjoy exploring further fallout from Oliver's absence. I would love, love, love to. But the show is coming back in a week and a half. And let's face it, it's going to render my little piece of fluff null and void once it comes back. I'm afraid I'll lose everyone's interest…not to mention, I'm not going to have nearly as much free time to write once all my favorite shows start coming back. So I thought I'd end it here on a high note. It felt like a good place to stop. Now, that having been said…if I get a horrendous outcry that I should continue on…well, I'm only human. You might just talk me into it. But I'm really happy with how this turned out and I've really enjoyed writing it during the hiatus. It gave me something to focus my frustration on. I'm sure I'll be back with another story at some point…if not during the season, then perhaps during the summer hiatus. Who knows? So if you're following me, you'll get a notification when I get that next story started. Thank you so much for all of you that favorited the story, followed the story, and/or followed me as a writer (that was really just…wow…thank you) and thank you again to all of you who took the time to post feedback or a review. That is the stuff that feeds my muse's soul and keeps me interested and excited about writing. So thank you! And please, I know it's the last part, but please let me know what you think of it and of the story overall. Any comments are appreciated. Thank you!


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